


The Big E (as in E for Emo)

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (actually only 3 but ...), Crack, M/M, crack at its finest, kind of treated seriously idek, the events in this fic are honestly one of my biggest fears, too many emo songs, why do i write dumb things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7952782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur lives in fear that his deepest secret will one day be revealed, due to this he abstains from relationships, to many heartbreaks have happened because of his past, best to just leave it alone. </p>
<p>But when Alfred an American coffee lover moves into his apartment block he realises that maybe love is possible for him despite his 'dark times'.</p>
<p>(just to clarify these referred to 'dark times' are extremely not serious and are crack)</p>
<p>(shitty attempt at humour, I'm not funny)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Big E (as in E for Emo)

I wake up screaming. I feel along my forehead and my breathing calms down instantly. I sit up and look into my mirror, still blond. I look around my room the walls are still the off white I just painted them (never bloody again that took a ridiculous amount of time and Francis was persistent on helping). I rip open my closet doors and breathe a sigh of relief, I'm fine. 

 

…

 

I try to tame my shoulder length hair before getting pissed and throwing my brush at the mirror. It’s too early for this. I pull on my weekend gear, which consists of old tracksuit pants and a disgustingly stained sweatshirt God I need to go shopping (note Francis can never hear that), and leave to get the mail. 

 

When I get to the mail I groan and nearly leave, he is here. The devil in disguise, the bane of my existence a super villain put down on this Earth specifically to ruin my life.

 

“Good morning mon ami.” The blond French man says in his bloody French accent. I give him an evil eye, how dare he be happy, and he just chuckles at me with his irritating little laugh that sounds like a dying cheetah. Sometimes I wonder if I should be allowed in public before midday. 

 

“Oh Arthur with your hair looking like that you could never intimidate me.”   
 

I feel a sudden urge to flip him off but control myself, I’m better than that. I pull out my mail and hastily shove one of the leaflets back.

 

“Why are they still sending me stuff?” I mutter discreetly.

 

“Arthur? What was that. Is it happening again because I swear! Never again Arthur, I can’t do it!” Damn I thought I was discreet.

 

“Don’t worry it’s nothing.” I mumble darkly. I stare at that mail box and am tempted to introduce it to my fist. I almost get there before I hear a door bang up the hallway.

 

A pretty blond man with glasses starts walking towards Francis and I. Whoa hold up did I just refer to this man as pretty. Holy shit he isn’t even wearing black I feel like I’m improving. Actually instead of black he’s wearing the most ridiculously colorful top, a disgusting mixture of pink and blue. Francis looks both horrified and impressed. After staring for awhile I’m also disgusted, how can someone have such an obnoxious top, and wear it so early in the morning of all times, its just bloody inconsiderate. 

 

“Hey dudes do you by any chance know a place where you can get at least average coffee?” 

 

“Oh so you’re a coffee peasant.” I mutter darkly, everyone knows tea is the superior race.

 

“Arthur,” Francis screeches hitting me with his newspaper, “don’t be rude to this handsome man,” he then turns to the American and introduces himself politely, “hello dear lovely to meet you I am Francis.” 

 

I can see the poor kid being sucked into Francis’s games before my own eyes. I can’t let this happen. Sure his voice is annoying, he drinks coffee, wears shirts, and called us ‘dudes’, but no one deserves the pain of being friends with Francis, except apparently me.

 

I grab the boys arm and yank him away from the Frenchman. 

 

“Come on kid I know a place where they sell your blasted coffee, come with me.”

 

“Bye, Francis.” The kid says startled. I mean it makes sense I haven’t taken a shower today and I called him a coffee peasant, but whatever he’ll later learn that I just did him a huge favor. 

 

“Bye dear I never did catch your name.” Francis says charming as ever, I hate him.

 

“It’s Alfred.” The boy or should I say Alfred calls over to Francis. 

 

…

 

I sit down across from Alfred. I took him to the small Hetalia café. The place is not that popular, but from extensive research I’ve learned that if you want coffee, this is the place to go. It is run by three men one Italian, one German, and one Japanese. You could say that they are the Axis. I’ve actually known Kiku for awhile and he then introduced me to Feliciano and Ludwig, yet all I know about these two is that Kiku ‘ships’ them and has fanboy rants about the two of them not kissing. It’s actually pretty hilarious I filmed a rant session once; it still sends me to stitches after a hundred times.

 

I look across to the Alfred and see him picking on the label of his latte.

 

“Hey I bought you the disgrace that is coffee you could have the decency to drink it.” I joke at him, he snorts and it was strangely attractive.

 

“Whatever you say, princess.”

 

“Oh wow such a great comeback bro.”  I say doing a poor imitation of the American accent. 

 

He laughs very loudly and high pitched, but it makes me smile, seriously I feel like comedian of the mouth. He smiles at me widely and I have an urge to ruffle that shaggy blond hair until I hear it. The call of my previous unspoken of past. No matter how hard I try to run it always catches up to me. 

 

“Am I more than you bargained for.”

 

I swallow down the fear gripping at my stomach and pull Alfred up harshly. At look at him panic consuming me, no one can know.

 

“We have to go.” I say voice raspy. I look over to my counter and Kiku is smirking, that little bastard.  
 

“What’s wrong?” Alfred asks clearly as panicked as I am.

 

“Nothing,” I say trying to smooth over this dreadful situation, “I just thought it would be nice if we went to the park, I’ll show you around England a bit.”

 

Alfred just shrugs and goes with it. Acting like his always happens to him, maybe this is what life is like in America, weird strangers dragging you across the city with no explanation, not like I have any experience. 

 

…

 

“So you’re from America?” I ask sitting next to Alfred on the park bench. The weather is damp and tiny droplets of rain are running down the leaves of the tree above us. Alfred doesn’t seem to mind which is great because I love the rain. A slight breeze is blowing carrying a musky scent with it probably making my hair look like a fourteen-year-old boy’s bedroom while Alfred’s hair looks ready to be filmed for a Garnier commercial. 

 

“Really you noticed, damn I was trying to keep it a secret.” He says sarcastically sending me a small grin. I push on his arm and noticed he is well muscled, gosh why is this guy such an obnoxious mixture of perfection and stupidity (I still can’t get over the shirt, it’s everywhere I look).

 

‘Why did you move to England smart ass?” I ask laughter lacing my voice.

 

“To study actually, Literature major, my mom always wanted to study at Oxford but her parents couldn’t afford for her to go, so I saved up money to study here and now I’m here. I’ve never seen my mom happier.”

 

“That’s really sweet of you fulfilling your mom’s dream and stuff, but do you want to study at Oxford?” I ask both impressed by his determination to save all that money but also concerned. I’ve known to many people who had done things because they felt obliged, it never ends well, and this man seems to pure to be tainted by pressure but there is always the chance. 

 

“Dude seriously who doesn’t want to study at Oxford.” He says like I asked the stupidest question ever. I’m silently very relieved. 

 

“What about you? What do you do?” Alfred asks nudging my shoulder. 

 

“Believe it or not I also study at Oxford I’m in my second year working towards a PhD in science.”

 

“DUDE SERIOUSLY.” I cover my ears someone is sure excited about this. “You can like show me around and stuff this is awesome.” I smile at him and gently bump into his side. He smiles at me and I suddenly burst out with the stupidest question.

 

“Do you want to go on a date sometime?”

 

His wide smile clarifies it for me. I. Am. Screwed.

 

…

 

2 days later

 

“Francis what have I done what if he finds out?” I ask the passive Frenchman while pacing my room. The blond is sprawled across my bed probably contaminating my sheets with his Frenchiness. He looks up from his design magazine and looks me dead in the eye.

 

“We will prevent him from finding out.” He says voice robotic and firm. “Those were dark time,” he continues, I roll my eyes he’s always had a flare for the dramatics, kind of like Voldemort, I mean he looks like that evil snake. 

 

I do understand where his dramatics is coming from though. My short life has consisted of me either being in the ‘dark times’ as Francis puts it, or out of the ‘dark times’ and then broken up with because of the baggage that comes with dating someone from said ‘dark times’. Honestly I do realize it’s a bit ridiculous as I have grown up, moved on and am trying to be a new person but some people don’t see that. The embarrassment of dating someone who was a part of what I was is understandable if not ridiculous. It has just become better that no one figures out and if they dump me it’s because of my unbearable personality.

 

“Dark times for us all Arthur especially poor Kiku I feel like I should make him a cake for all the trouble he went through with you; I should also make your dear mother Margaret one.” Francis continues.

 

“Why do I hang out with you?” I ask genuinely curious, I’ve always wondered, maybe the frog will finally have the answers for once. 

 

“More importantly why do I hang out with you?” he bites back; I roll my eyes like he could do better.

 

“How do I look.” I ask. I finally figured out how to brush my hair so it looks spectacular, Francis scoffs at the idea of my hair ever looking presentable but I’ve had years of learning how to ignore him. I'm wearing a white button down which may or may not be slightly small and a pair of jeans.

 

“The smaller shirt gives you like a teaspoon to your zero amount of sex appeal so I guess it’s good. Add a nice cardigan though.”

 

“Fuck off you know I don’t own a cardigan.”

 

“Trust me mon ami I do, I mean I understand why you have limited clothing but it has been years have you seriously not been shopping since the dark times.” Francis asks concerned like the idea of not shopping every week is terrifying, excuse me for actually using my money to feed myself. “Also,” he continues, “how long has it been since you’ve been on a date, do you know what to do.”

 

“I don’t a year maybe since Antonio broke up with me because of the dark times, this is why Alfred can’t know.” I say beginning to worry about him finding out again.

 

“Oh please,” Francis scoffs, “that’s not why Antonio broke up with you.” 

 

“That’s what he said.” I whine back, having had this conversation to many times, but before it can reach its full height again a loud knock is heard on the door.

 

“Queen Elizabeth please help me,” I cry.

 

I open the door and am greeted by a bouquet of dark red roses and Alfred’s radiant smile, I notice one of his canines is crooked, its very adorable and makes him resemble a small puppy. Realizing I’ve been staring to long I shuffle out of the door way and give Alfred room to step inside.

 

“Hi,” he says as he steps in and hands me the roses, “I got your roses,” as if it wasn’t obvious, the boy was lucky he was adorably hot and sweet. Instead of vocalizing that I smile at Alfred and hug him lovingly for the gesture.

 

“Oh mon ami surely you can do better than a hug.” Francis complains from the kitchen. I finally do flip him off. He laughs, one day I will kill his laugh or him, not sure which one is the better option. Alfred’s body flushes red at Francis’s words and I briefly forgive him for the sole fact that Alfred is adorable all red and flustered.

 

I grab onto his elbow and lead him out of the apartment. 

 

“Ready for the date,” I whisper into his ear, he blushes more, and God since have I had game, and gives a small nod. He is too much, why are people cute?

 

“Oh well goodbye kids don’t forget your curfew.” Francis yells down the hallway still in my apartment, I swear if he stays there all night I will finally beat his ass. I can hear him snickering as I close the door on him, just digging himself a bigger grave.

 

“Sorry about him he’s just a prick who thinks he lives with me even though he has his own apartment.”

 

“Well he probably only does it because he cares.” Alfred says naively trying to defend Francis, the boy will learn. 

 

“Oh no no no, Alfred honey if you want this to work between us, anything I say about Francis you must agree with, and I mean anything.” Alfred just shakes his head and grabs my hand.

 

“So, where are you taking me?” He asks, wide smile back, I smile back, his positivity infectious. 

 

…

 

“Bowling, fuck yeah I’m going to crush you!” Alfred exclaims with confidence.

 

“I wouldn’t be to confident big guy.” 

 

“Dude I was on the school bowling team; we went to nationals.” He says with pride.

 

“You had a bowling team?” I ask in shock.

 

“Oh yeah I was captain.” He says pride exuding from his voice, like that isn’t the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.

 

“Really I saw you as more of captain of the football team.” I say jokingly

 

“Oh I was.” He says seriously. I roll my eyes; I should have known. 

 

We suit up, he looks hilarious in his grey sweater and nice pants then bam these ugly bowling shoes, but I guess I don’t look any better. We start the bowling; Alfred is so good I actually want to stab him so I could absorb his powers. Luckily I don’t do that because when he comes over wraps his arms around me and teaches me to bowl ‘properly’ I swear I almost died, happily. It was going well the occasional banter and light hearted conversation makes me smile, I don’t even care that I'm losing. It was going well until I hear it faintly in the distance.

 

“Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor.” 

 

I can feel my insides crawl with the urge to just, but I can’t. I have to get out or else he’ll know and I don’t want him to know it always ends badly. Does being a previous emo mean the melodrama always sticks with you, because it has been three years and I’m concerned it will never go, maybe it’s Francis fault. Anyway priority number one right now is to get Alfred out, before I feel the urge to sing and everything I’ve worked hard to hide is revealed. 

 

“Alfred we have to go.” I say so coldly Alfred just drops the ball on the floor almost on his foot.

 

“Oh come on Artie we only have one more round.” He whines giving me puppy dog eyes. I nearly submit he actually looks like a loveable five-year-old. Then I remember this is for his own good. I grab both of the blonde’s warm hands and look into his blue eyes and feel as if I could drown in them. 

 

“Alfred trust me.” I whisper. He immediately nods and I lead him out of the bowling alley.

 

Seriously though, who would play song that at a family entertainment center?  

 

…

 

After a lovely dinner at my favorite restaurant I take the younger boy back to the apartments. I drop him off at his door and bring him into another hug. Then I hear the words of Francis in my head.

 

“Oh mon ami surely you can do better than a hug.” I can actually hear his insistent and needy tone in my head, it sufficiently creeps me out. Yet for once I take Francis’s advice and pray to Princess Diana that it doesn’t back fire. 

 

I gently grab the back of Alfred’s neck and gently press my lips onto his. I can feel him smiling through the kiss. In a burst of adrenaline, I press my lips against his harder. I didn’t hear a string orchestra playing behind us or hear the fireworks exploding above, but I knew are lips fit together perfectly like Alfred was made so I could kiss him. 

 

Once we break apart neither of us know what to do. After a few seconds of unbearable awkwardness Alfred grabs my hand and kisses it. 

 

“Call me.” He whispers against my palm and then walks inside his room. Idiot I don’t have his number, he’s bloody lucky we live in the same apartment building.

 

…

 

3 months later

 

Alfred bursts into my room and collapses onto my bed groaning.

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask while running my hands through his soft hair.

 

“So much school work.” He moans, is it weird I’m jealous that something other than myself made him moan even if that thing is an inanimate object.

 

“What were you expecting honey?” I ask gently rubbing his back. He leans into me; I place a butterfly kiss to his forehead. Then Francis barges in; seriously how does everyone keep getting in here. 

 

“You leave a spare key buried to the left in your pot plant.” Alfred says like he read my mind. Seriously I think I spend too much time with him it’s getting creepy how well we read each other. 

 

“Alright Arthur mon ami, it is time for a haircut.” Francis says clapping his hands together. Alfred sits up and looks at me.

 

“Yes Artie it is time for a haircut.” Alfred says happily, his eyes light up with joy, traitor.

 

“What did I tell you on out first date, if you want his to work you have to disagree with anything Francis says?”

 

“You dumping me is worth it if you cut your hair.” He says in all seriousness. I place a hand over my heart in hurt; he just rolls his eyes at me.

 

…

 

Somehow those two force me into Francis’s car and we are on the way to get my hair cut. I silently curse both of them to a lovely afterlife in hell. Once we park the car and enter the barber’s I feel like crying. It’s not like I have long hair, its only slightly past my shoulder, it’s just scruffy and sure it annoys me more than my brother Peter, but I feel a certain connection with it that I don’t happen to feel with Peter. I sit down in the chair and am ready for the torture of getting my hair chopped off. Francis rolls his eyes at me like, why is his long hair acceptable and mines not, is it upkeep because I really do try sometimes.

 

“So what would you like today sir.” The barber asks me.

 

“Nothing,” I mutter darkly, I’m not going to make it easy for him.

 

“He would like for it to be cut everywhere make it presentable I don’t care; I just can’t look at this shit anymore.” Francis says for me like I’m some sort of child. Silently I thank him, very silently.

 

The cut is going smoothly, it’s not enjoyable and a piece of my soul breaks every time a strand of hair touches the ground. I write a special eulogy for each of them. Then once again I hear it. I swear the universe is out to get me.

 

“When I was a young boy.”

 

I can’t do it; I have to sing this song. Francis looks at me in panic! 

 

“Don’t do it Arthur.” Francis whispers dramatically. Alfred looks between us in confusion. I try to restrain myself I really do, but the words bubble in my throat and explode out my mouth. 

 

“He said, Son, when you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned,” The words come out of me in a mix of confused Arthur and extremely happy emo Arthur. I want to curl into a ball, but the fringe won’t allow it. Alfred is looking at me in extreme loss and disbelief. 

 

“You were scene” Alfred says in disbelief. I nod my head in shame. Just break up with me now.

 

“He even had a fringe. His hair was dyed green with black and white stripes he looked like a raccoon. He had multiple piercings it was scary, do you have any idea how often I had to convince him not to get stretchers, nine, nine times.” Francis said the words spilling out of him now that he no longer has to hide the truth. 

 

“It wasn’t that many times.” I say trying to salvage the situation.

 

“You’re right it was eleven.” He says bite in his voice. Alfred snorts and starts breaking into uncontrollable laughter. 

 

“You guys. Why did you keep this secret?” He starts laughing harder. Customers are giving all of us the evil eye. I look behind me and realize the barber has left, god knows how long ago.

 

“It was a dark part of the past that we don’t like to talk about.” Francis says once again reverting back into Voldemort mode.

 

…

 

2 days later   

 

I have isolated myself in my room the past couple of days. The darkness of the room reflects my emotions. I was going great then stupid Alfred had to come and ruin all my progress, it’s all his fault, I think I need to learn to take responsibility for my actions, but today is not that day. Then I hear it the loud pitter patter of footsteps. Now that could be one of two people because I don’t have any other friends. The question is though who is it. It could also be a burglar or serial killer and I'm in deep doo doo but I like to look on the positive side of things. 

 

“ARTIE I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU.” Ah it’s Alfred. I’d have preferred the burglar. I'm not ready for the inevitable break up due to the deep emotional baggage that comes with dating a former emo. Maybe I’m Voldemort.

 

I follow the sound of Alfred’s voice and end up in my kitchen to find an Alfred dressed in or could you say painted into black leather skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and the ugliest plaid jacket known to mankind. He hands me a CD and his smile is somehow wider than normal. I swear he has an abnormally large jaw because no one normal can smile that big. 

 

“What is this?” I ask confused

 

“It’s from my high school band, we called ourselves peachfuzz. We did covers of what you would call emo songs. I thought you’d appreciate knowing you’re not the only former scene is this relationship.’

 

I suddenly realize how hot Alfred looks in leather. I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him onto me.

 

“Have I ever told you I love you?” I growl into his ear. “Because baby I love you.”

 

“Love you to.” He gasps

 

I pull him into my lips for a scorching and realize that yeah we’ll be alright.


End file.
